


Petite

by SilverFliesInBlueSugar



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Anorexia, Body Dysphoria, Bulimia, Depression, Dissociation, Eating Disorders, Eventual Happy Ending, Fluff and Angst, Heavy Angst, Hugs, Identity Reveal, Ladrien | Adrien Agreste/Marinette Dupain-Cheng as Ladybug, Ladynoir | Adrien Agreste as Chat Noir/Marinette Dupain-Cheng as Ladybug, Marichat | Adrien Agreste as Chat Noir/Marinette Dupain-Cheng, Multi, Peer Pressure, References to Depression, Self Confidence Issues, Self-Acceptance, Self-Harm, Self-Hatred, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-25
Updated: 2019-10-26
Packaged: 2021-01-03 08:17:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,301
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21176282
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SilverFliesInBlueSugar/pseuds/SilverFliesInBlueSugar
Summary: It only takes a few words to make everything spiral.In the end, it's the father he thought hated him, the assistant he thought ignored him, and the girl he thought would never return his feelings that help him out of the hole he's gradually fallen into.





	1. Where It Began

**Author's Note:**

> If you like this, please leave a comment! Any advice on portraying this subject matter would also be vastly appreciated!

If he was asked, Adrien would say that it hadn't struck him immediately. None of it had been sudden, and nothing had come quickly to him. The thoughts, his actions, none of it. He couldn't pin-point an exact, precise beginning date. It had been a gradual decline into the depths of hell ever since he could remember.

He knew it had been before he had gotten his miraculous; that was when it had been almost at its worst. But there were much worse times to come.

His biggest regret was not stopping after he became Chat Noir. After he had found a new freedom, a new way to exert control over himself.

Anyway, it had all began, though he himself couldn't recall this, around the beginning of his father's new fashion line around March. 'New enough to be a refreshing aspect of the new year, but not so early that people are preoccupied with other matters' his father had once told him. He had nodded, seeing the logic even if he didn't truly much care much for fashion or the methods used within it.

The newest photographer, Anton Moquerie, had seemed perfectly kind and normal. He had been very helpful with directing Adrien's position and mood, and even had a good sense of humour. He laughed and cracked jokes with the young blonde, teasing and ribbing him, but also encouraging and inspiring him.

But the comments...

"Y'know, young monsieur, for a model you aren't what i normally see!" he had laughed. "It can be quite refreshing, actually. Most models are these perfectly shaped, thin and toned creatures. It is intimidating! But you... Mon ami, you are natural! You are true!"

And Adrien had laughed, and taken it, humbly as he could, as the compliment it had likely been meant to be. But something had swirled unsettlingly in his stomach.

'Most models are perfect. He used me as a point of contrast. And he said it was good that i was authentic, but... Can't you be both perfect and authentic? I think that's what father would want...'

He tried to brush it off, shrugging his shoulders and shoving it to the back of his brain. But just like a seed being planted in a garden, it set it's roots, and began to sprout up higher and higher.

Slowly, he began to notice other models. Specifically the male ones, but some of the female ones caught his eye too. Not sexually, but on a pure base physical level. And he found with some chagrin that Anton had been correct. Every model was different to him, but similar to each other in a few regards. They were either very thin, with a wonderful complexion that fit any garment or lighting, or they had amazing toning and fat distribution that helped market them as beauty icons. 

He felt slightly confused. He himself wasn't fat by any means, not even close, and he knew this well. He had an occasional weigh in to make sure he was eating properly and not going over the highest acceptable weight, which was 130lbs. He was told that at 14, he should be around 120. He had always sat squarely at 125.

Of course, he wasn't being restricted truly. He had been told quite frankly that if he went up to 135 or even 140lbs, it wouldn't be the end of the world. He would just have to go into a slightly different branch of modelling that would fit him better. Nothing dramatic at all.

But he didn't want to let his father down. Or any of the people working tirelessly to make this shoot perfect. So he had stayed cautious and remained strictly on his meal plan, never allowing for any snacks or extra foods.

But more comments snuck in. Most from Anton.

"Oh cher, mon complice, you have gained weight, non?" the photographer had looked him over with a raised brow. Adrien laughed sheepishly. "Yeah, i went up to 127lbs. I'm planning to lose 2 or 3lbs though, so don't worry"

"Yes, good!" the loud brunette had wiped his brow in exaggerated relief. "It would not do well for you to become overweight, non non, not at all!" he had clapped his hands as if to urge the conversation on quicker. "Now then, are you ready to pose?"

Adrien had nodded and smiled, but the pit in his stomach grew heavier. He couldn't yet determine what it was.

Was the weight gain really so noticeable? And was it so bad if he gained a few pounds? What if he was taken out of this line's shoot because of his weight??? Father would be so disappointed...

A weight felt like it was pressing on him day by day, becoming heavier and heavier with each step. He was becoming increasingly aware of any eyes on him, that could be judging him, taking in his every move.

Watching him eat.

He began to eat in privacy or semi-privacy, feling sick at the thought of another watching him eat. Of someone seeing him, and thinking he was gaining. His diet plan said he should be eating the perfect amount, but still, it took him a week for the number on the scale to drop from 127 back to the normally comfortable 125.

But as he watched the usually satisfactory number light up beneath his feet, a few words circulated in his mind.

'What if this isn't low enough? After all, the perfect weight is supposed to be 120lbs. And you gained weight so easily... Maybe it's time to lose some'

Once the thought was there, it stuck.

And it didn't let go.


	2. Chapter 2

As the weeks stretched on, he found himself growing increasingly self-conscious.

He started to count the calories in his meals, and tried not to groan when he saw how many some had. His favourite foods had the most calories.

A croissant has 406 calories

A bowl of strawberries has 54 or 108 calories

A banana has 89 calories

A muffin has 377 or or 295 calories.

The average teen boy needed around 2,200 calories a day, he'd found. He decided firmly at the beginning that he was just going to drop 200 calories. 2,000 seemed like a reasonable and rounded number, and the difference would be minor enough that no one should notice if he just ate a little less. Not that most would notice anyway.

He didn't know why he wanted people to not notice so badly. He supposed it was likely just embarrassment that he had slipped up before. Dieting was relatively normal, all things considered, but he couldn't help but worry that someone might try and stop him. Try to lie to him and placate him. 

Still, dropping 200 calories was initially harder than he expected. He couldn't snack so much anymore. He normally liked to eat a small bowl of fruit or a butter croissant during his breaks, but he'd had to forgo that recently. It was actually pretty upsetting and nearly made him quit.

But he kept on. He persevered, even as a part of his mind told him he was fine the way he was.

Still, the change he had been expecting didn't come. At least, it didn't come as quickly as he might have hoped. Because despite his efforts even to do a little more exercise, the number on the scale barely dropped 3 pounds.

122lbs. Normally he would be proud and content with that, but now it just made him uneasy. It seemed so easy to gain weight, but so hard to lose it.

Then again... Those times where he had gained weight rapidly occured when he ate a lot at once. So maybe if he just ate as little as possible for a short while the opposite might happen? Maybe if he straight up didn't eat for a day? A day wouldn't be a big deal, right?

The first time he tried, he discovered just how painful it could be.

He started the day by avoiding his breakfast, lying and saying he felt a little sick. They accepted his excuses easily. When breaks and lunches came, he didn't take any food with him. 

At dinnertime, he finally caved.

There had been an aching, gnawing pain in his stomach and abdomen all day. He felt like he had been hollowed out, and he had to hold his stomach, as if somehow the pressure of his arms would stop or suppress the agony.

So bad was the pain that at dinnertime he ran straight to the dining table and almost feverishly ate, hyperaware of Nathalie's confused and slightly irritated eyes on him.

Then, halfway through his meal, he froze. A piece of fish fell off his fork to pitifully 'slop' back down onto the plate. A cold feeling started in his chest and filled his entire body from head to toe.

What was he _doing?!_

Feeling like he might vomit, he pushed the plate away from himself as far as he could manage with both hands before giving Nathalie a sheepish smile. "I'm, uh, I'm all done now. Can i go practice my piano?"

She had given him a strange frown before nodding and taking his half-eaten plate.

He had practically sprinted to his room. He felt... Heavy. Like somehow even just that portion of food had set back all of his progress.

In a fit of paranoia, he pulled his scales out and weighed himself in his bathroom. To his relief, he had only gained about a quater of a pound. Nothing drastic.

Still. He was dissapointed in himself.

He set his mp3 to play piano audio to trick Gorilla or Nathalie if they tried to check in on him, and pulled out his phone to Google what he wanted to discover.

'How do i not feel hungry'

'What are appetite suppressants'

'Appetite suppressants - Shop'

He placed an order at a pharmacy and vowed to pick the pills up after school.

A part of him was worried about how quickly he had thrown himself into it. His weight didn't matter _that_ much, surely? Perhaps he was just being silly...

But it did matter, to him. Because he wanted to be perfect. In every aspect. The thought of falling behind in any regard made him feel unsettled.

Days stretched forth, and he picked up his pills. Suddenly, he found it easy to skip breakfast and lunch. He even tried to get a smaller dinner, but that was the meal Nathalie always monitered him during, and she would just look suspicious when he tried. So he opted to simply hide some of the food in his pockets or a napkin so that he could bin it later.

This worked... For a while.

She had caught him, and snapped that he shouldn't be wasting food. Were he less angry, he might have noticed that she was more worried than annoyed, but his judgement was clouded. He just groaned and lied and lied, the lies spilling off his tongue so easily. He had rarely lied before. Now he found himself doing it daily.

But it was better than becoming overweight. Than becoming a dissapointment.

...right?

Somewhere along the line, he stopped viewing 120lbs as healthy and instead saw it as 'too much'. Suddenly, he didn't just want to be healthy. He wanted to be thin. There was something oddly exhilarating about starving himself.

Because, for once, this was something he had control over. Every aspect of his life was monitored, predetermined, watched. Like he was an experiment. But with this, he felt like he had control over himself for once. It gave him a rush of power. It was addictive.

But while he could skip breakfast and lunch with relative ease... His dinner was still being monitered. He was being forced to eat it now, every last bit, and it made him feel sick. Every dinner left him with a residual feeling of guilt and a sensation as if he were slowly expanding. He could somehow almost feel pounds increasing as he ate another piece of meat, could already see the numbers ticking up on the scale.

On one occasion, the guilt and hatred he felt burning in his gut led him to the toilet, and he heaved over the bowl, desperate to get the food out. When he couldn't throw up, he began to sob, before remembering something Chloé had once told him.

_"Daddy's being paranoid" the 13 year old grumbled. Adrien was confused, and asked her to explain. She shrugged, pouting. "Kay, so like, mummy taught me a few months ago how to make yourself throw up. Because it's really helpful for dieting and losing weight, yeah?"_

_Adrien was very confused, but nodded. She continued. "But ever since daddy found out i've been making myself sick he's been super an-noy-ing! He's been like, calling in doctors and everything!"_

_He had, in foolish curiosity, asked how she was able to force herself to be sick. And with an amused laugh, she explained._

With only a second of hesitation, he stuck two fingers down his throat.

It took several minutes of sobbing and gagging, of him questioning doing this, of him collapsing against the wall in almost lost hope, only to get up to try again, before it all came out.

It was the most disgusting sensation he had ever felt in his life, and he hurried to clean it up.

But a weight felt like it had been taken off his chest.

Somewhere across the country, the mayor of Paris screamed at his daughter as she knelt in front of the toilet, her fingers in her throat, her legs shaking.

And in the Agreste manor, despite his pride at success, shame permeated Adrien's head like a fog and didn't leave him for hours.


End file.
